Merry Christmas, Olivia Dunham
by JT4Life
Summary: When a problem surfaces on Christmas Eve, Peter calls on a special someone to help them out.... P/O Christmas fic, just a little hopeful holiday cheer for you all!
1. Chapter 1

_merry christmas eve everyone! i thought about trying to update Kryptonite, but I just had to write something christmas-y :D Hope you enjoy this little piece, don't know if i'll take it any further, but we'll see!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Charlie Brown or Fringe. Bummer._

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**Merry Christmas, Olivia Dunham**

_I never thought it was such a bad little tree. It's not bad at all, really. Maybe it just needs a little love._

_-Linus, A Charlie Brown Christmas_

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"Walter, I can't."

"Why ever not, son?"

"She probably already has plans."

"And what if she doesn't? You'd be passing up a lovely afternoon with a beautiful lady because you were too scared to simply ask –"

"I'm not scared, Walter!"

"Then what is the problem with asking the woman to go with you?"

Peter regarded his father with an expression that was reserved for those moments when words failed and the only card left to play was stubbornness.

Walter sighed. "Have it your way son. If you keep this up, she may never see you as more than a friend, despite your obvious physical attraction to her and the way you flirt – "

"Fine, fine, I'm going! But only because I don't want to be around to hear you finish that thought."

The door slammed behind Peter and the scientist's face split into a wide grin, a small twinkle in his eyes.

X

Olivia Dunham rose from her spot on the couch when the doorbell rang.

"Peter, hi!" She greeted the familiar man on her doorstep.

"Hey there, chipper," he smirked back.

She frowned playfully. "What? Am I not allowed to be a little happy during the holidays?"

"Oh you, are; I'm just not so used to it. _Yet_," he added quickly at her sharp glance, but that familiar sparkle was still dancing in her eyes, telling him that it was nothing more than water under the bridge.

"Want to come in? It's getting chilly.."

"Sure, thanks."

Once inside, Peter puffed out his cheeks, red from the biting wind. "Wow, it really did get colder in the last few days," he commented.

Olivia nodded. "Did you want to come in for some cocoa? Rachel and Ella are out doing some last minute shopping…"

Peter raised his eyebrows. "On Christmas Eve?"

"That's what I said. That, and that they must be suicidal to go to the mall when it's packed full of crazy people just like them."

"Crazy? I wouldn't say so. We've both seen weirder stuff."

"Touché," Olivia's smile widened. Peter realized that she'd been smiling the whole time, and it was truly a sigh to see. She was free, unburdened by work and the weight of the world.

"The real reason I came over was to ask you something," Peter began slowly. He grinned and took his time loosening the scarf on his neck. He was toying with her, encouraged by her high spirits.

"Go on," she prompted him, obviously interested. Peter grinned.

"Walter and I were going to go get a Christmas tree today, but he came down with a nasty cold overnight and refuses to get out of bed. He's afraid he'll infect the rest of Boston with, as he calls it, _his_ strain of the cold virus because it _may_ have mutated inside him due to all the uncertainties involved in his work. Oh, and he also said that releasing an epidemic around the holidays would be purely cruel and uncalled for."

Olivia giggled. Peter was astounded. He was really starting to like this new side of Olivia.

"And?" She crossed her arms, as that smile he loved grew even brighter, again prompting him to continue.

"And," Peter put emphasis on the single word, drawing it out for as long as he dared. Happy-go-holiday-lucky or not, Olivia was still a deadly weapon of her own. He had no doubt that she would take him down just to get something out of him, or simply for fun. "I was wondering if you would like to come with me to go Christmas tree hunting."

She bit her lower lip, eyes brilliant as ever, but he could tell that she was sizing him up, trying to determine if he was still kidding or if the request was genuine. Finally, the silence was broken by her reply.

"I'd love to." Peter released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. The joker act doubled as both his personality and a convenient way to hide nervousness.

Not that he was nervous, really.

"I'm just going to change into something warmer, I'll just be a minute," Olivia grinned and walked, no, almost sauntered out of the room and Peter was left in total awe of her and the invisible cloud of warm, holiday fuzzies that seemed to be following her around.

Peter took the time to examine the decorations that had undoubtedly been put up by the three Dunham girls. In addition to the garnish, wreaths and snowflakes that adorned every nook, cranny and nail on the wall, a bold tree that smelled delightfully of sweet sap and wood occupied one corner of the room. It was a full seven-foot Douglas-fir covered in tinsel, popcorn and cranberry strings, and ornaments both shiny and paper cut outs. The corner of Peter's lips twitched in amusement at what must have been little Ella's handiwork.

He heard Olivia approaching him from behind and turned. She was dressed in dark jeans and a simple v-neck brown sweater that hugged her tiny form perfectly. Peter smiled, but turned his head back to the tree before she caught him staring.

"I never knew you were such an artist, Olivia," her teased, nodding at one of Ella's drawings on a cut out paper angel.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Peter Bishop," Olivia said a hint of mystery in her voice. He knew that she was teasing him back just for the fun of it.

"Ready to go?" Olivia asked as she grabbed her coat and scarf.

"After you," Peter nodded and pulled open the door for her.

X

"That one won't do," Olivia shook her head at the oddly proportioned tree before her and Peter.

"Scrawny can be ok, you know," Peter commented. "Charlie Brown had a tiny tree, but it ended up being perfect."

"This isn't scrawny, Peter, it's just not suitable if you don't want your lightest ornaments to make the branches droop."

"Fine, we'll keep looking," he replied and they continued their trek through the snow onto the next group of trees at the tree farm. "So, what's our perfect tree going to look like? I want to be able to know it when we see it."

Olivia shoved him lightly on the shoulder and shrugged. "It's got to be strong with a nice solid trunk. A good trunk means that the roots are sturdy and that the tree is firmly planted in the ground. That's the only way it can get the right amount of water and to keep the branches and pines healthy. Without good roots, the tree can't anchor to anything and it can't support itself for too long before the needles turn brown and just… fall off."

Peter frowned thoughtfully. Something told him that they might not necessarily be talking about the tree any more. But he played along, interest spiked.

"So how do you know when it's a good tree if you can't see the roots?"

"Well," Olivia began slowly, "you can look at the branches and needles to see if they're dying, but that isn't foolproof. The tree could be on the edge of browning and you would only find out when your living room floor is covered in brown needles."

Peter nodded, fully engaged and ever curious as to where she was going with this.

"But really, you just have to look at the outward appearance of the tree and…" she paused and looked down at the mid-shin deep snow as their boots kicked it up in puffs of white flurries with each step. "Really, you have to guess; take a chance on a tree that looks good on the outside, but also just feels like the right one."

"And has that strategy worked out for you before?" Peter braced himself, afraid that he perhaps went too far with that one, but Olivia replied quietly.

"In the grand scheme of things, less often than I'd like to admit. But more recently, it's been a pretty solid method."

Peter nodded appreciatively. "Good turn outs?"

"So far, so good." She smiled back at him, but then quickly returned her gaze to scanning the nearby trees.

A minute later, she began walking off the path and deeper into the woods.

"Found one?" Peter asked excitedly.

"I think so…"

Olivia made her way around several twists and turns before Peter found her stopped before a hemlock tree. Peter came to stand beside her and surveyed her choice. It wasn't the fullest of trees, but it had what looked like an even distribution of branches so that there were no gaping holes in the greenery. Crouching down, Peter examined the trunk. It was a good four inches in diameter, maybe a little more. He stood back up and turned to Olivia.

"What do you think? Are we gonna take a chance on this one?"

Olivia met his gaze, and this time, didn't break away as a small smile graced her lips. "Definitely."

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_I sincerely hope y'all liked it, and it would be awesome if you could drop me a prezzie and write a lil review! _

_a very happy holidays to all!!!!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Yes, i know i'm a terrible person, but i had to update this. i agree with y'all - it wasn't done. there was (and possibly still is!) so much i could do with this... and so i did. but don't worry, i haven't forgotten about my other fic!!! Just a little writer's block, nothing a little time and the right inspiration can't fix!_

_do enjoy, i'm rather fond of how this chapter turned out! and i don't own fringe. or christmas tree lights. wish i did though, can you imagine what fun you could have with an unlimited supply of those??? :D_

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The car ride home was initially a quiet one; the only was exception the sound of the wind as it whipped around the tree strapped to the roof.

Since Olivia had insisted on driving the cruiser (_for practice_, as she put it), Peter gladly took the time to replay their earlier conversation in his head. Olivia had been clever to use the analogy of a Christmas tree to hide it, but Peter knew for a fact that what they had really been talking about was just about as unrelated to a tree as was possible. Well, except for that analogy that tied the two together. He had to give her points for that one actually, it was sneaky enough for an untrained listener, one who didn't know her like her did, to simply dismiss it as a pleasant conversation between two adults determined to find the right tree. Peter knew better than that; he'd known if from the minute she'd opened her mouth that there would be a deeper meaning, a double meaning, to her words. He just knew her _that_ well. The only question was, did she know that he knew her true train of thought? Well, how could she not? She was an FBI agent, and a particularly perceptive and observant one at that. The odds of her not cluing in were about the same as Walter not asking for at least, if not more than, one strawberry milkshake in the next week.

"What are you so happy about?"

Olivia's eyes were trained on the road, aside from the occasional sideways glances in his direction, waiting for a response.

"Nothing in particular," he replied, elusive and intriguing as always.

Lips pursed to hide her grin; the gears were turning in her head as she debated whether or not to take the bait.

"Well, it's got to be something important for you to grin like you could light up a whole town's Christmas lights," Olivia smiled back.

Peter shook his head. "Hey, if you're allowed to be the happiest little holiday elf, then I think it's ok for me to smile with as much wattage as I please."

Laughter filled the car and Peter's heart soared because most of the joviality was coming from the woman beside him.

X

"Walter, we're home!" Peter called as he and Olivia cautiously edged their way through the doorway, tree in hand. "Walter?" He tried again, but there was no reply.

They settled the tree into the stand before searching around the house.

"Peter, here…" Olivia called not a minute later from the kitchen. Peter hurried over and accepted the sealed envelope she held up to him – 'Peter' was written on the front in a hurried script. He tore it open.

_Son,_

_I'm feeling much better, and have gone out to go gift shopping with Astatine. I will be back in a few hours, so make good time of being alone in the house with Agent Dunham._

_Sincerely,_

_Walter Bishop_

Peter couldn't believe what he'd just read, but he had to say something to an expectant Olivia.

"He's out shopping with Astrid, and he'll be back later…" Peter threw on his best smirk to hide his embarrassment and swiftly shoved the note into the back pocket of his jeans.

Olivia nodded, and Peter cringed inwardly. She hadn't bought it. There was something about those inquisitive eyes as they bore into his.

"So, thanks for inviting me to go tree shopping, I had a great time… I'll get out of your hair now," she flashed him a small smile and made it half way to the door before he caught her wrist.

"Decorating the tree is only the best part," Peter raised his eyebrows in mock shock. "Are you really going to ditch me just when it's getting good?"

Olivia met his gaze and they engaged into an impromptu starring match, something that they always seemed to do, so much that calling it impromptu was becoming an incorrect term.

"I'll stay, if you insist."

"I do."

"Then I'll stay."

Peter released her arm, having just remembered that he was still holding it, and, motioning for her to follow him, walked over to the boxes of ornaments and lights that he and Walter had bought the previous day.

X

An hour later found Peter and Olivia still hard at work; the tree lights were strung, and the greenery was nearly covered in metallic bulbs of every color, shape and size, according to Walter's picks.

They had fallen into a comfortable silence and Peter had a sudden thought. Impulsiveness got the best of him and he opened his mouth without a second thought as to what would come out of it.

"I've been thinking about what you said about choosing trees."

"Oh?" Olivia replied lightly, but Peter could have sworn that he glimpsed her eyes flick nervously to the ground and back up to the tree.

"Yeah, and I've got a question for you."

"I'm listening, Peter."

He was already in too deep, not that there was anything he could do about it. So, Peter took a deep breath and dove in.

"How is it that you know so much about trees?"

Olivia placed the red orb in her hand on a branch before responding quietly. "I've had a lot of trees in my life, Peter, you must know that."

He nodded, waiting for her to find a suitable home for a green and red striped ornament before continuing.

"Eventually, you get a knack for being able to pick the good ones from the bad ones from the start. But," she sighed, "but sometimes you just get so damn fed up with all of the bad trees that you just go with the best of the worst because you can't be bothered to look any harder."

"And then you bring it home and the needles give you a new carpet."

"Exactly," Olivia rolled her eyes and let out a dry laugh.

"Or worse," Peter added, "the tree actually holds up for a few days and _then_ you get your carpet."

Her eyes turned on him, wide and amazed. "No kidding!" The sarcasm hung on her every word, but it was more of a mutual understanding rather than a jab. "Seems you know a thing or two about trees yourself, Peter," Olivia grinned.

"I've had my share," he shrugged and opened a box of ornaments varying in shades between baby and midnight blue.

"So then why ask me all those questions when we were picking out our tree?"

She knew how to toy with him, but it was all part of the show.

"You seem to be the expert here." Maybe that was too harsh. "Sorry to say it, but I think that, between the two of us, you win."

Olivia shook her head, bending down to secure a navy blue bulb to one of the lower branches, and Peter crouched down beside her. "Not reason to be sorry Peter, it's not like it's _your_ fault that I've had a bad run of trees."

"But I can help keep it from happening again," Peter said quietly.

Olivia froze for a moment before sitting up slowly. Peter held his breath, but didn't let it lessen his resolve, at least not on the outside.

"Do tell," she frowned slightly, arms crossed.

"Just, y'know, helping you to choose in the future, like a second opinion. Your wingman, if you will," Peter smiled and played up the compassionate best friend when he felt like shit on the inside. He'd chickened out big time, and in doing so, had turned his attempt at subtle suggestiveness into a damage control operation.

"Wow," Olivia smiled, starring down at her toes as she drew her knees up to her chest, "That's… that's very kind of you to offer that. I know that, um, 'tree hunting' isn't always pleasant, and openly offering to jump back in with me…" She looked up meekly; chin resting on her knees and crossed arms. "It's a nice comfort knowing that you've got my back."

Peter extended a hand and delicately touched her forearm. "Count on it," he said gently, one corner of his lips twitching up into a charming grin.

"So does this mean that we're going to the tree farm together next year?" Olivia raised an eyebrow questioningly, a poorly concealed smirk playing on her features.

"It's a date," Peter said without even thinking about it. The neurons in his brain were just firing any which way without consent to do so, and he bit his tongue in a pointless attempt to prevent any future slips. He expected Olivia to shrink away, to do everything in her power to avoid emotional entanglements and confusion. Instead, her eyes twinkled and danced with reflections of the soft white lights that adorned the tree.

"Ok, then. One year from today, you and me are going back to that tree farm." And to his even greater surprise, she turned to pull her blackberry out from her back pocket (which reminded him that his hand was still on her arm and he quickly removed it) and input the date. "There," she said a moment later, "it's set."

"What do you say we finish up with the tree we've got now?"

"Deal."

They both stood and Peter was about to put another ornament on the tree when Olivia turned to him, taking the ornament from his hand and gently returning it to its box.

"Peter, I just… I want to thank you for what you said, it really means a lot to me, and I want – I _need_ you to know how important you – you're support is." Peter put his hands on her shoulders, nodding understandingly. "I value your opinion and, even more importantly," she was shaking now, trembling under Peter's steady hands, "I trust you, Peter. I trust _you_."

The raw honesty in her voice moved Peter. This was a big step for her, being able to admit these things out loud. He didn't hesitate to put a hand up to her cheek and gently draw her body to his, one arm wrapped around her waist; the other tangled in her hair. He didn't say anything; he didn't have to. There was nothing to say between them, they'd been close for long enough that physical comfort had become a kind of silent sanctuary. It was a place where thoughts could wander and wind wherever they pleased without a worry to hold them back. There was no fear of the outside world, no fear of each other, only trust, companionship, and an uninhibited sense of belonging. It was a place where hands could hold and arms could protect, wrapped protectively and perfectly around the other. They fit together naturally, a position that had already been embedded in muscle memory from the few precious times they had shared in each other's embrace. Her head lay on his chest in the small nook beneath his chin, and his head would rest against hers, and each could inhale the other's scent. Their bodies pressed together opened a two-way street for body heat, another small reminder that they were together, and that neither was alone. Most of all, it was a place that was peaceful and not often accessible, so it was deeply cherished and treasured when at hand.

A shudder ran the length of Olivia's body and Peter realized that she was crying, silently. He gave her a tight squeeze, and continued to hold her, but now tighter than before. Two arms reached around his torso even further and two fists curled into his sweater. He pressed his lips into the tangle that had become her hair after he had ruffled it, intertwining his fingers in its golden lengths. They clung to each other like they were the other's lifelines.

Peter held her for what felt like hours, but the reality of passing time wasn't important, not when she was in his arms.

X

Walter Bishop walked up to his house, arms laden with presents for Astringe, his boy Peter, Agent Dunham, and Gene. It had begun to snow softly on the drive home, which only fuelled his holiday spirit, so much that he was bursting with it. Excited to share the joyous Christmas sentiments with his son, and hopefully Olivia if she was still here, Walter almost ran to the door, but stopped when something in the softly lit living room caught his eye. Stepping closer to the window, the scientist's face broke into a wide smile, tears welling up in his eyes, for there stood his son and Olivia. They were joined in a tight, passionate embrace on Christmas Eve with the tree lights softly illuminating the romantic scene. The sight only warmed his heart even more so when Peter planted a kiss in the young agent's hair.

As much as Walter wanted to stay and watch, or just run into the house and tell Peter how happy he was for him and Miss Dunham, something about the solemnity of the moment that his son and Olivia were sharing kept him at bay, and he respected it. He headed meekly back to the car where Asteroid was waiting to see him safely in the house. A quizzical expression crossed her face as he returned to the car and reclaimed his seat in the front right seat of the vehicle.

"I think we need to find something else Christmas-like for us to go and do for the next little while, my dear."

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_Ok, so should i write more??? again, i'm stuck. i need your help guys, so it would be nothing less than awesomesauce if you could drop me a review!!!_

_hope everyone's holidays were filled with joy, fond memories, and chocolate :D xo_


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